


The Hunters

by QueenOfCarrotFlowers



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/M, Rey and Kylo are drift compatible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-25 09:46:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17119025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfCarrotFlowers/pseuds/QueenOfCarrotFlowers
Summary: Rey and Kylo meet as they hunt vampires in Victorian England.





	The Hunters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OccasionallyCreative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionallyCreative/gifts).



> Thanks to LoveThemFiercely for her beta work on this

The Hunter caught sight of the creature at Ludgate Circus. It had climbed down from the rail bridge, Saint Paul's looming ominously in the background, and immediately headed south on Bridge Street, loping down the hill, only to divert to Bridewell Place. He followed it at as much of a distance as he safely could, stake at the ready, pistols with silver bullets tucked in the dual holsters on his hips, hidden under his greatcoat. 

It was very late, and dark, and the street lamps were weak, the flickering gas flames only providing so much illumination against the grimy dark. Bridge Street was busy, horses and carts and people walking even so late at night, but the side streets were near deserted, so the Hunter had to be cautious. He would not get in a successful kill tonight if the thing knew he was near, if it suspected he was following. 

* * *

The Huntress saw the vampire coming down the hill on Bridge Street, then turning quickly onto one of the side-streets; Bridewell Place, she thought. It was dark, but the gait of the things was very distinctive, more animal than human, and she was certain of what she saw even in the gloom. So she turned as well, onto William Street, figuring that if she went up Water Street she could meet it where Water and Bridewell both converged with Tudor Street. She took a moment to tuck up her skirts; the clothing was inconvenient for her work, but necessary lest she draw attention to herself. Her sword was in a scabbard, strapped across her back under her coat, and she reached up to feel for the hilt, tucked behind her neck, but did not draw it out. She preferred to fight with her hands for as long as she could, before using the sword to go in for the kill. She pelted up Water Street, anticipating the fight to come. 

* * *

The young man was heading home after a long day of work followed by a long night of drinking. He’d been at the Black Friar pub, down at Saint Anne on Queen Victoria Street, and was now heading home to shared rooms on King’s Bench Walk: just up Bridge Street, a quick left onto Tudor Street, then straight home. He was drunk but he could manage that; he’d managed worse. He was good but he was no innocent. 

He had just crossed the intersection of Bridewell Place and Tudor when he was attacked from behind. He was a strong man; working in the warehouse, moving bolts of fabric to and fro, had further enhanced his naturally muscular body, so he was confident, at first, that he would be able to fight off his attacker. But the attacker, whoever he was, was also strong. Unnaturally strong, considering what the young man could tell of his build and stature, which was tall but very slim. And he _stank_. 

It was only a few moments of struggling before several things happened in quick succession. First, the attacker was thrown off the young man by someone else, and then the young man himself was pushed down and into the gutter. His hat was knocked off and came to rest directly beneath a street lamp. He considered grabbing it and running, but he paused to watch because evidently his attacker had been a vampire, and because there were Hunters. _Two of them_. 

The attacker crouched on the cobblestones in the middle of the street, pale and snarling. It looked almost human, had probably been human once, but not for a while. It bared its teeth as it growled, revealing sharp yellowed fangs that nevertheless shone in the weak light of the street lamps. One of the Hunters, a tall man with long hair pulled back in a tail and a distinctive scar across his face, held the thing at bay, a long, sturdy-looking wooden stake in his hand. The other, a woman with her head uncovered, hair pulled back in buns, was behind it, hands thrown up in what he guessed was some ancient fighting stance. 

She was going to fight the vampire unarmed? How insane, and how _wonderful_. 

It happened quite quickly. The vampire dove for the man, but the woman jumped on its back and held it, enabling the man to attempt his first failed stab. The thing was able to twist around, throwing the woman off in the process. She jumped back up, growling, and ran for it again, pulling it away from the man as it made another attempt at him. 

It wouldn't be until later that the young man would consider the strangeness of the fight; it was near silent, the only sounds the grunts of the three fighters and the scuffs and scrapes of boots and bodies against the cobblestones. The Hunters did not speak, although they moved in perfect tandem, as though they were born to it. As though they were a single entity. 

After only a few minutes, the Hunters had the vampire held steady between them. It relaxed, hanging limp, but only for a moment after which it reared up and pushed them away in one final show of strength. _Now_ there was noise. The woman screamed, a primal, vicious sound, and drew a sword out from a scabbard that had been hidden across her back. The young man gasped in recognition as the sharp steel cut the air with a whistle, slicing across the vampire’s neck at the same time the man’s wooden stake found purchase in the thing’s chest. 

The Hunters gasped for air as they studied the dead and dismembered vampire at their feet, then turned slowly to regard each other. 

* * *

“It's you,” he said to her, a touch of wonder evident in his voice that made her blush, unbidden. 

“I certainly am myself,” she replied, wiping her blade against the thing's coat before resheathing it. The man watched her with evident interest but did not ask about the sword, for which she was grateful. “I've heard of you as well. The Great Hunter from America, Kylo Ren, if I'm not mistaken.” 

He nodded and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. She wished it wasn't so attractive. Why did he have to be attractive? 

“You fight well,” he continued, and she scoffed because she knew she fought well. She was trained by the best. She _was_ the best. 

She was going to tell him that he fought well too, but was interrupted by a young man with dark skin and shining brown eyes, likely drunk given his unsteady gait, who grabbed his hat from under the lamp before hopping over to them. Right, him. The one who was unlucky enough to be attacked. What was he still doing here? 

“That was amazing,” he gushed, and she couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “I've only seen a real Vampire Hunter once before, when I was a child. He had that sword,” he gestured with his hat at the same time a voice cried down from the direction of Bridge Street. 

“Oi! You there!” 

The Huntress groaned and realized Kylo was groaning with her. “ _Dameron_ ,” they said together, and then she _giggled_ , like some bloody schoolgirl; but she didn't have time to kick herself because the police were coming and they needed to leave. 

* * *

Oddly enough, it was the young man who took charge, grabbing both of them and pulling them further down Tudor Street. “I live not far from here; you can hide in my rooms until it's safe.” Kylo had somewhere he could go, several of them actually, across the city and its environs; but he was charmed by this man’s exuberance and curious to know about his history with the sword. Kylo himself knew better than to mention the weapon, but he wanted to know more about it, and the mysterious woman who wielded it. Until tonight he hadn't even been sure either of them existed. 

He also wanted to tell her about himself, the truth of it versus whatever she'd heard through legend or rumor. His kind had always fought alone, but they had fought together so easily, like two halves of a whole. And the way she was looking at him right now, even as they rushed down the dark cobblestones... his hand found hers and she gripped it tightly. He felt like he was no longer alone. Maybe, for the first time in his life, he didn't have to be alone. 

So he followed the other two into a narrow lane, towards a less lonely future. 

**Author's Note:**

> Dear OccasionallyCreative,
> 
> I loved your prompts so I hope it's okay that I combined a few for a treat: Victorian era, vampires, smog, cobbled streets of London + Kylo and Rey using the Force together. Drift compatibility isn't exactly the Force but in a Victorian au I hope it will suffice.
> 
> Happy New year!
> 
> Anonymous
> 
> Update: Avamarga made some beautiful fanart of our team of Hunters. It's _perfect_ (Kylo's hair! The sword!) I love that it looks like an old photograph. Thank you Avamarga!!  
>   
> ([Original on Twitter](https://twitter.com/avamarga_/status/1084836525722882049), go give it some love!)


End file.
